intention of trying for the Deutsch Prize of 100,000 francs. This was a
big undertaking, and many people thought it would never be accomplished;
the successful aeronaut had to travel more than three miles in one
direction, round the Eiffel Tower as a racing yacht rounds a stake-boat,
and return to the starting point, all within thirty minutes--_i.e._,
almost seven miles in two directions in half an hour.

The new machine worked well, though at one time the aerial navigator's
friends thought that they would have to pick him up in pieces and carry
him home in a basket. This incident occurred during one of the first
flights in No. 5. Everything was going smoothly, and the air-ship
circled like a hawk, when the spectators, who were craning their necks
to see, noticed that something was wrong; the motor slowed down, the
propeller spun less swiftly, and the whole fabric began to sink toward
the ground. While the people gazed, their hearts in their mouths, they
saw Santos-Dumont scramble out of his basket and crawl out on the
framework, while the balloon swayed in the air. He calmly knotted the
cord that had parted and crept back to his place, as unconcernedly as if
he were on solid ground.

It was in August of 1901 that he made his first official trial for the
Deutsch Prize. The start was perfect, and the machine swooped toward the
distant tower straight as a crow flies and almost as fast. The first
half of the distance was covered in nine minutes, so twenty-one minutes
remained for the balance of the journey: success seemed assured; the
prize was almost within the grasp of the aeronaut. Of a sudden assured
success was changed to dire peril; the automatic valves began to leak,
the balloon to sag, the cords supporting the wooden keel hung low, and
before Santos-Dumont could stop the motor the propeller had cut them and
the whole system was threatened. The wind was drifting the air-ship